The crucible of unimpassioned truth,
Would not resolve themselves into those three?
Now I must go—your sun’s about to set—
So farewell earth!
Phil.And when the sun is down
The earth is inconsolable!
Zeo.Until
The moon appears! Perhaps there is a moon
That fills my place until I rise again?
Phil. No moon, dear Zeolide; or, if there be,